


The Last Straw

by Isra



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: D/s, Dubious Consent, M/M, Pure Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1772635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isra/pseuds/Isra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Pure smut. Explicit. Strong D/s, moderate S&M, violent imagery, dubious consent.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Last Straw

**Author's Note:**

> Pure smut. Explicit. Strong D/s, moderate S&M, violent imagery, dubious consent.

Link was chewing loudly again. Or, possibly, still. It seemed to Rhett as though the man never stopped. 

The two of them were in the main room of the studio, Rhett stretched out on the couch with his laptop on his stomach and Link sitting in the armchair nearby, computer on his lap. They were trying to work on ideas for the main channel, but it was one of those days where nothing was clicking; the dynamic between them just wasn’t working. After an uncomfortably tense GMM filming, they’d been irritable with each other all afternoon. They’d spent what felt like hours shooting down each other’s ideas with extreme prejudice and growing increasingly impatient as a result. They’d moved from their office to this room in the hope that a change of scenery would help, but so far it hadn’t made a difference. 

There was a tin of peanut brittle open on the desk between them, sent by a devoted fan. They both snacked on it from time to time, the salty-sweetness of it quite satisfying, but Rhett was beginning to regret their choice to open it. Link’s consumption of it was growing increasingly grating on his nerves. Each piece crunched loudly in the man’s teeth, his jaw popping as he chewed far more thoroughly than Rhett considered necessary, the sounds echoing around the room and mocking their lack of productive conversation. 

The cacophony of Link’s mouth sounds also had the unfortunate side effect of drawing Rhett’s thoughts to his friend’s legendarily long tongue and full, pink lips with their prominent cupid’s bow. He’d been finding it harder to resist watching them when Link spoke to him these days, an inclination which confused and concerned him. 

How convenient that his inner turmoil could easily be channeled into annoyance, saving him from having to think about it further. He turned to glare at his friend and snapped, “Could you… not?”

Link looked at him, startled. “Huh?”

“Chew like that. It’s, like, deafening.” 

The other man rolled his eyes as his lips smacked around the stickiness. He looked like he wasn’t in the mood for what he’d called Rhett’s “primadonna” attitude. “I don’t wanna choke, man.”

“If you keep making all those gross noises, I might be the one doing the choking.” 

Link snorted in disbelief. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“I’m not being ridiculous. I can barely think.”

“If it’s bothering you so much, why not put on some music?”

“I shouldn’t have to listen to music just because you can’t eat food like a normal person.”

They were glowering at each other when Jason came into the room, backpack slung over his shoulder. “GMM’s edited and up on the server. Stevie and I are gonna head out if that’s okay.”

“Sure, see you tomorrow,” Rhett replied, trying to keep his tone light.

“Bye Jason,” Link chimed in. 

Rhett checked the clock. It was the time when normal people went home, but it was the one day of the week he and Link were scheduled to work late. His mood sank further as he saw the other man reach for another piece of peanut brittle. It was promising to be a very long, tedious evening.

The main door to the studio shut as the last of the crew departed. Now it was just him, Link, and Link’s chewing. After staring blankly at his screen for five minutes unable to focus on what was in front of him, Rhett gave up and closed his laptop. He moved it to the table and let it thump down loudly to convey his annoyance. He leaned his head back onto a pillow and closed his eyes. For a few minutes, all was quiet.

Then came a rustle of waxed paper, a scrape of metal as the tin scuffed against the table, and the crunching began anew. Rhett ground his teeth together as he stared at the ceiling, his ability to concentrate vanquished by the noise that stabbed, ice-pick-like, into his brain. He heaved an exaggerated sigh as he scratched at his beard and ran his hands through his hair, then stood up and began pacing the room.

Link watched him with his lips quirked in amusement, still chewing. It was way too easy to provoke Rhett sometimes, and he was obviously taking great pleasure in doing it now. 

Finally Rhett had enough and stalked over to Link’s chair, glaring down at him. “Why don’t you ever take this seriously anymore?”

The man looked up, his smile gone now. He removed his glasses and tossed them with a clatter onto the table, rubbing his eyes in annoyance as he swallowed the mouthful of candy. “I take it just as seriously as I always did.” 

“Then why won’t you shut up and let me think?”

Link shoved his own laptop onto the table and sprang to his feet, scowling at him. “Maybe if you weren’t so sensitive about every little thing, you’d be able to relax.” 

“ _I’m_ too sensitive? You’re the one who needs everything to be exactly right, the same little routines every day, or you flip out.”

Link’s lower jaw jutted forward in defiance. “I don’t flip out.”

“Then maybe you could try chewing things only a hundred times instead of five hundred.”

Link put his palm on Rhett’s chest and gave him a little shove, a gesture more dismissive than combative. “That’s an exaggeration and you know it.”

Rhett knocked his hand away and glared down at him. “Barely.”

The challenge in Link’s eyes grew. Without looking, he reached for the tin of peanut brittle and brought a piece to his mouth, crunching it slowly and obscenely between his front teeth. “Welp,” he said with his mouth full, lips smacking, “Whatcha gonna do about it, chief?” 

The sheer insolence of the man’s expression combined with his complete confidence that his friend was just going to roll over and take it — the way he always did, the way he’d put up with this crap for years — made Rhett’s anger boil over with shocking speed. Before he could think, he had his hand on Link’s throat and had pushed him back a few steps. The man’s shoulders hit the wall and he let out a soft “oof” of surprise. 

Rhett kept his hand where it was, the heel of his palm on the top of Link’s sternum, holding him in place without compressing his neck. He glared down at his best friend. “I’m sick of this shit,” he spat. “You’re gonna start treating me with respect.”

Link stared up at him as he ran the tip of his tongue quickly along his upper lip. He looked exposed and vulnerable without his glasses, his hair fallen down across his forehead from the impact with the wall. Rhett could feel the man’s pulse fluttering fast under his fingertips as Link brought his hands up and clutched the taller man’s wrist. “Rhett…” he protested, his mouth still half-full of toffee.

“Swallow it,” Rhett growled.

As his initial surprise wore off, Link’s sass returned with a cocksure confidence that Rhett wasn’t going to _actually_ hurt him. He chewed with his mouth open a few more times, slowly and obnoxiously, meeting Rhett’s gaze with narrow-eyed contempt. He clearly expected Rhett to back down in short order. He smacked his lips wetly and the rough edge of his chin pushed down against the top of Rhett’s finger and thumb. “Make me.” 

Rhett couldn’t believe his friend was still doing his best to provoke him. He shoved his hand up under Link’s jaw, raising the man’s head and putting it against the wall, and clapped his other hand over his mouth. Link sucked in an alarmed breath through his nose as his eyes widened. Rhett tightened his fingers around the man’s throat. “I said _swallow it._ ” 

They stared at each other for a long moment before Link dropped his gaze and Rhett felt the hard edge of the man’s adam’s apple bob under his palm as he complied. 

Rhett took his hand away from Link’s mouth but kept the other where it was. Link’s hands still clutched his forearm, still pushing ineffectively at it. “Okay,” he panted. “Satisfied? You’ve made your goddamn point, lemme go.” 

Rhett didn’t want to let him go. Restraining Link in this way, effectively having the man at his mercy, felt surprisingly good. And besides, even if Rhett had won this round, it wasn’t enough to make up for years of disrespect. He stepped forward and pressed his body against Link’s, further pinning the man against the wall. His goal was to intimidate his friend further, but when he did so, he felt something along his thigh he had not been expecting in the slightest: Link was hard.

Now the man’s quick breathing and his lack of sincere effort in escaping Rhett’s grip had an explanation. As Link squirmed, color rising in his cheeks, Rhett’s own ardor kindled in response. He leaned in close, fingers still encircling the other man’s throat, and rumbled, “I’m not satisfied yet.” 

He tightened his grip further, experimentally, and heard Link make a soft, involuntary noise as his hips twitched. The shorter man gaped at Rhett, his mouth open and tongue pressed to his lower lip, holding himself very still. Feeling an intriguing heat of aggression surge within him, Rhett rolled his hips forward, pressing their groins together. He watched the realization flash across Link’s face as he felt Rhett’s own arousal. The sight of the fear that followed it made Rhett drunk with power and instantly harder.

“I’m sick of you not knowing when to shut the fuck up.” He finally released Link’s throat and stepped back slightly, just enough to have room to maneuver. He pushed down roughly on Link’s shoulders until the man’s legs buckled and he dropped to his knees with a cry of shock. His back pressed against the wall and he sat on his heels. 

“Rhett, what the— Ah!“ Link’s protest ended in a gasp of surprise and pain as Rhett caught a fistful of his hair and jerked his head back. 

With his free hand, Rhett undid his own belt and unfastened his pants. “Maybe you need something else to occupy that mouth.” 

Link let out a soft moan as he writhed, back arching against the wall. His eyes were closed and his fingers scrabbled weakly against Rhett’s clenched fist and strained against the top of Rhett’s thighs where the waistband of his jeans now bunched. Rhett knew how strong the man could be when he meant it, so it seemed these struggles were for show, a game they were both playing. Rhett brought his cock to the man’s parted lips and pushed, still holding tight to Link’s hair, and enjoyed the muffled, high-pitched noise he heard as he entered the man’s mouth. 

“That’s better,” Rhett murmured. “Now you can’t talk at all.” 

Rhett shifted forward further, groaning softly as he filled the man’s throat with his manhood. He brought his free hand down alongside Link’s cheek and jaw, feeling the muscles flex and strain as he thrust slowly in and out. The quick, panicked breaths that puffed out of Link’s nostrils fanned the flames of his lust. 

He pulled back on his fistful of hair, adding his other hand at the corner of Link’s face to tilt the man’s head up. Link’s eyes were closed and his lips were pink and glistening around the shaft of Rhett’s cock. “Look at me,” Rhett growled. Link’s eyelids fluttered and his eyes rolled blankly for a moment before focusing up at the other man’s face. His eyes were watering and gleamed like sapphires framed by long, matted lashes. 

Rhett locked eyes with Link as he thrust again, conveying his power and ownership with every motion. He watched his cock slide past those luscious lips, then pushed harder until he felt greater resistance and saw the other man’s eyes widen with the realization he could no longer breathe. Link struggled to turn his head but Rhett held it in place. Pressed against the wall as he was, there was no other escape route. His hands, which had fallen to his sides, rose again and pushed ineffectually against the other man’s legs. His eyes pleaded with Rhett, blinking wide, until they began to glaze over and close.

Rhett pulled out, releasing Link’s hair as he did so. The other man crumpled against the wall, leaning onto one hand and coughing. “Fuck… “ he whimpered.

Rhett didn’t give him time to recover. He bent down and hooked him under the armpits, hauling Link easily to his feet and holding him there as the man’s knees threatened to buckle. Link’s head lolled back and he licked his lips as he looked up at Rhett with a mixture of shock and desire. “I’m not done with you yet,” Rhett hissed. He half-carried, half-dragged his friend down the hall to the recording studio, shoved him inside, and closed the door behind them. 

Link stumbled over to the GMM desk and slumped heavily onto his palms, chest heaving. Rhett kicked the two chairs out of the way and stepped up close behind him, pinning the man’s thighs against the desk. He reached around and unfastened the button on Link’s jeans, then hooked his thumbs over the waistband and yanked them down past his hips, along with his underwear. 

Link’s hands slid across the desk as he scrambled for purchase, trying to brace himself so as to not fall over as Rhett raised a foot between his knees and stepped on the crotch of his jeans, wrenching them down to the floor around his ankles. 

“Rhett—“ he choked out, struggling to free his feet from the tangle of fabric, but Rhett didn’t give him a chance. He cupped Link’s firm ass with one hand and the man gasped again as Rhett explored its cleft with his fingertips. He brought his other hand around Link’s quaking ribs and held him upright, clasping him tightly to his chest and bringing his mouth close to the shorter man’s ear.

“You gonna cooperate now?” Rhett growled. Link let out a soft whine and tried to pull away, but he couldn’t budge the arm that encircled him. Rhett looked down and saw with satisfaction that Link was still fully aroused. He decided he didn’t really want Link to cooperate. In fact, the more he struggled, the hotter it was. 

Link seemed to be playing along, deliberately playing up his fear in order to inflame Rhett’s lust further. His words spilled out in desperate tangle. “Rhett, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I—“ 

Rhett didn’t wait for him to finish, but shoved Link’s upper body away from him, bending the man over the desk. He pressed a palm into the center of Link’s spine, pinning him to the table as his apology was swallowed by a gasp. With his other hand, Rhett reached for the buckle of the belt that dangled from his waistband and whipped it out of the loops with a single fluid motion. Link heard the jangle of the metal buckle and whimpered but didn’t try to move. His head was turned to the side and his eyes were closed. “I think you’re not done learning your lesson,” Rhett told him, and Link shuddered. 

Rhett took a half step to the side. He doubled the wide leather belt over on itself and gave a few practice swings through the air, satisfied with its heft. Without warning he swung it against the fleshy part of Link’s backside and was rewarded with a satisfying smack and a sharp moan. Link’s knees trembled but he managed to keep them straight, leaning most of his weight on his forearms and hanging his head down. 

Rhett brought the belt against the other buttcheek with similar force and the noise Link made in response brought a feral grin to his lips. He paused to caress the smooth skin of the man’s ass, feeling the warmth the belt was beginning to draw out of it. Link’s body curved against the desk as he pressed himself up into Rhett’s hand with a high keening noise.

Rhett drew back and made another strike with the belt, harder this time, and another. He continued in a steady rhythm until the skin was red and burning to the touch and Link’s mewling cries had filled him with a white-hot lust. When he stopped and cupped the fevered skin in his palm, the smaller man writhed and gulped desperately for air.

Rhett shoved his own jeans and underwear down to the floor and stepped out of them, kicking them to the side. He reached to the filing cabinet for the nearly full bottle of olive oil left over from a recent GMM and unscrewed the cap. He poured a generous amount of the yellow-green oil onto the small of Link’s back and along the crack of his ass. The other man rocked his hips at the new sensation, whimpering in anticipation. 

Rhett ran his fingertips through the oil and pressed a single one gently but firmly into Link’s ass. The man cried out and flattened his body against the desk, his legs gone quivering and weak. Rhett watched his reactions with satisfaction, not waiting long before adding a second finger. He moved his hand slowly but mercilessly, watching Link’s helpless writhing and listening to his moans of mindless desire. He brought his other hand through the oil pooled in the dimples of the man’s back and began stroking himself.

When he was good and hard he withdrew his fingers and slid his cock along the slippery crack of Link’s ass. “You want this?”

Link’s eyes were still closed and a sheen of sweat shone across his slack upper lip. “Mmhmm.” 

“Say it.”

“I want… I want you.” 

Rhett moved his hips slowly, teasing. “Beg.”

The man shivered, hips rocking against the table in shameless need. “Oh god, please… please fuck me, Rhett, please, I need it….” 

Rhett brought his cock down and positioned it, pressing forward, sliding slowly inside with an appreciative groan. Link gulped a deep breath of air and moaned loudly, trembling.

Rhett bent down over Link’s back and reached both arms forward to sink his hands deep into the man’s hair. As he tightened his hold and thrust deeply, Link arched beneath him with a cry, his face turned upward and eyes squeezed shut. Rhett growled in his ear. “You like that, huh?”

Link strained against his grasp in order to nod. “Yes, yes,” he panted. His hands hung limp off the front of the desk, inches from the silver microphone. He pushed his hips up against Rhett’s body, begging for more, and Rhett enthusiastically obliged, fucking him hard and fast.

The room filled with Link’s high, breathless cries. Rhett bent down and wrapped his arms around the man’s chest, hauling him upright once again. He crossed one arm over the other man’s torso and supported his weight. With his other hand, he reached down and began stroking Link’s cock while continuing his emphatic thrusting.

“Oh god, oh fuck,” Link moaned. He reached a hand up and cupped the back of Rhett’s head, turning to him with his eyes closed and lips parted. Rhett bent down and met his lips with a savage hunger, caressing Link’s taut abdomen and heaving chest before bringing his hand up to close his fingers around the man’s throat, continuing to stroke him with his other hand.

Link shuddered, helpless, whimpering against Rhett’s lips. His cries grew louder, interspersed with gasps of pleasure in time with the increasingly vigorous motions of Rhett’s hips and hand. Finally he went over the edge with a shout, muscles clenched and back arching as gushes of pearlescent come splashed across the desk’s dark wood grain.

When he was sure Link was done, Rhett released him and let him fall back onto the table. He grasped the man’s hips and thrust into him roughly, pinning him down as Link cried out with each ragged breath. At last Rhett also reached his climax; he pushed deep and held himself there as he came with a long groan. 

His passion finally and thoroughly spent, Rhett collapsed forward, bracing himself on hands to either side of Link’s trembling body, trying to catch his breath as his all-consuming lust slowly waned. He leaned down and pressed his lips to the sharp knobs of vertebrae between Link’s shoulder blades. The smaller man whimpered and turned his head toward him, and Rhett passed a hand under his throat to support him as he leaned down to kiss him tenderly.

When both of their racing hearts had slowed, Rhett straightened up and gently withdrew himself. He ran his hands down Link’s back, the skin smooth and slick with sweat and oil. He lightly grasped the man’s hips and assisted him in turning over and sitting up on the edge of the table. Link wrapped his legs around Rhett’s thighs and reached up to caress his cheek, blinking up at the taller man with wide blue eyes that were glassy and dazed. 

Rhett brushed his friend’s sweat-soaked hair back from his forehead and cupped his jaw, leaning down to meet lips that were swollen and reddened. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Link’s shoulders, losing himself in a passionate kiss that seemed to go on forever.

***

Rhett woke to a tentative touch on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw mottled grey upholstery in front of his face. The firm cushions beneath him and the cramped folding of his legs were enough clues to inform him he was lying on the studio couch. 

He rolled to his back and looked up to see Link smirking down at him. “I don’t think we’re gonna make any more progress tonight. I’m ready to go, if you’re done sleeping on the job.”

Rhett stared up at his best friend with a dumbstruck expression as memories of the dream flooded through him. He coughed and turned away to hide the flush blooming on his cheeks. He swung his feet to the floor and moved to stand up. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, you should’ve woken me up right away.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you. You need all the beauty sleep you can get.”

Rhett snorted. “Whatever you say, princess.”

Link stuck out his long pink tongue in response before turning to the door. Rhett watched him go, his eyes following the curves of the man’s backside in his tight skinny jeans. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly through pursed lips, shaking his head at the audacity of his own subconscious. Visions of Link looking up at him from his knees swirled around Rhett’s brain as an uncomfortable tightness spread through his groin.

The drive home was going to be awkward.


End file.
